


Understanding This: Our life is not a fucking farytail

by AppleSauceLake1



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Brotherly Love, Child Abuse, Evil John Winchester, F/M, Hurt Sam Winchester, My Poor Boys, Not Incest, Protective Dean Winchester, Sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 14:42:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10165238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleSauceLake1/pseuds/AppleSauceLake1
Summary: So Mary isn't dead.... Is this a good or bad thing?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sup.  
> I is back.  
> I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1

Dean quickly walked down the busy street, weaving in and around people.

He griped onto his flip phone, trying to will his brain to shut up and get home quicker.

Suddenly, his phone started buzzing raptly. 

Dean froze and answered the call, taking a deep breath. 

“Hello?”

“Is this Dean Winchester?”

Dean griped his phone tighter. “Speaking.”

“Do you know or are you related to a John Winchester?”

Dean sighed, loosening his grip on the phone. 

“Yeah, I’m his oldest son. What happened?”

“How old are you Dean?”

“I’m 14.” said Dean as he started walking again. 

“Oh! Okay…. Your father said you were 17… okay so you’re a minor. That’s good to know.”

‘He always thinks I’m older then I actually am.’

“Do you have son Dean?”

“WHAT.” Dean stopped on his house doorstep. “No, I do not have a son!”

“Oh. Again, your father said you have a son… named… Sam I believe?”

“God dammit dad. No Sam is not my son, even though he could be, he is my little brother.”

“Ah. Okay, thank you for telling me. Where is Sam right now?”

“At home.” Dean leaned against the door, running his fingers through his short hair. 

“Mom? There’s a mom in the picture? Your father sai-“

“Don’t believe ANYTHING my father says.” Dean groaned. “He doesn’t know anything. Yes, me and Sam live with our mom. We haven’t see our father in years. I’m surprised he hasn’t drank himself to death.”

Dean heard typing over the phone. “Okay. So your father asked me to call you asking for one thousand dollars for bail. Could you do that?”

Dean snorted. “Hell no. Tell him he can rot in jail.” 

“Alright, thank you for time Dean.”

"No problem. Bye.” Dean flipped the phone shut and pulled his key out of his jean jacket. He unlocked the door and stepped into the house.

Sam was sitting on the floor, close to the door. He was staring right at the door, unblinking. 

Dean softy smiled. Sam did this everyday, he had no clue why. 

“Hi Sam.”

Sam blinked and a huge smile rolled on to his face. 

He stood up and dashed over to Dean. 

Dean picked him and placed him on his hip.

“How was your day kiddo?”

Sam shook his head and snuggled his head into Dean’s shoulder.

“Okay, not in a talking mood today. Good to know.” Dean strolled into the kitchen and slid Sam onto a chair.

“I’m guessing you haven’t eaten today. So, I’m gonna make some mac and cheese.” Dean grasped the box of mac and cheese that was sitting on the counter. “Sounds good?”

"...."

“I’m taking that has a yes.”

As Dean cooked, Sam just sat there, staring at Dean, not blinking.

When it was ready, Dean quickly brought it over to Sam.

“Remember to eat every little bit.” Dean glanced at a clock on the wall. 

“Mom’s gonna be home soon.”

‘And hopefully she brings home some money or food this time.’ 

Sam poked Dean’s shoulder. 

“Huh?” Dean shook his head. “Sorry about Sammy, just got lost in thought. What’s up?”

Sam held out his fork, pasta balancing on it.

Dean shook his head. 

Sam shoved the fork closer to Dean.

“Okay, okay. I have it.” 

Dean took the fork Sam and ate the pasta.

Sam smiled and scooped up another forkful. He shoved it towards Dean.

“No Sammy. You eat.”

Sam shook his head.

“Sammy.” Dean gently grasped Sam’s wrist and pushed it back towards him.

Sam sighed and ate the pasta.

“Good job Sammy. I’m proud of you.”

Sam grinned.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

Sam curled into himself.

“Fuck.” Dean muttered.

He slowly stood up and shuffled his way over to the door. 

“Sam. You know what to do.”

Sam nodded and dashed out of the kitchen.

When Dean got to the front door, he took a deep breath and opened the door.

There stood a woman, her hair was neat and her smile was forced.

“…Who are you?” said Dean, confused. 

“Hi there. You must be Dean, right?”

Dean slowly nodded.

“I’m Madsen and I’m from Child Services.”


End file.
